On the Other Hand
by namichan89
Summary: Season 5 AU. Cas returns in a new, female vessel, which throws Dean off balance in more ways than one. Mainly because she's smoking hot or at least that's what Dean tells himself. Over the course of a casually evolving sexual relationship, Dean has to face the fact that it's Cas he's attracted to - Cas, not the vessel he's in. And that he kind of misses Jimmy.
1. Chapter 1

**Chapter 1**

Dean's nose was still clogged up with blood and his left eye too swollen to open it. And yet, he could have cared less about his fractured nose and cracked ribs. Everything hurt, and not from Lucifer's relentless punches. Tears still ran silently down Dean's cheeks.

He just watched his brother jump into the deepest abyss of hell without any chance to get him out ever again. Sam made him promise to let it rest, don't risk it again and yet, every fiber of Dean wanted to either jump after him or bring him back.

Bobby eyed him cautiously from behind the wheel of the Impala every few minutes, but Dean had no intention other than to not choke on his own blood right now. Which took him enough effort as it was. He leaned his head against the passenger side door and tried to breathe steady and calm, ignoring the big, giant lump in his throat and the block of cement that lay heavy on his chest.

Not an insignificant amount of him simply wanted to die.

Despite his promise to Sam to get out, to have that apple pie life without the daily dangers of a hunter – it had lost the appeal when the realization hit that Dean would have to do it on his own.

Without his brother, who was currently rotting in hell, in the cage with Michael and Lucifer.

And without his best friend, whose insides lay splattered in a circle on that graveyard outside of Lawrence.

Bobby had been knocked unconscious after Michael had flung him against a nearby headstone and therefore didn't end up dead or beat up six ways from Sunday the way Dean had. Which was a small mercy, since Bobby was the one who drove him home right now. He didn't say a word, hadn't said a word after Dean had summarized the events since he had been knocked out.

Dean didn't want to talk, and probably couldn't, anyway. His lips were split open and swollen, his jaw probably cracked at a few points. Everything hurt.

What a great way to start a new life without two of the most important people in his life.

When they finally reached Bobby's salvage yard, Bobby hauled him inside the house, sat him down in the living room and cleaned and stitched him up. Dean was apathetic, staring into space and let Bobby do his thing. Without another word, the older hunter opened the last bottle of Johnny Walker Blue Label, in honor to Sam and Castiel, who had lost their life that day on the battlefield, fighting Michael and Lucifer, saving the world by preventing the apocalypse.

But at what cost.

* * *

One week later finds Bobby and Dean sitting on the porch with beers in their hands, quiet and without saying anything for hours, brooding and staring into space. It's cloudy, has been for days now, and the depressing weather fits their mood perfectly. Due to Dean's several broken bones and his general physical condition, they haven't been particularly productive those past few days. Bobby works the phones for Rufus, and otherwise, it's sitting around the house and drinking their pain away.

Dean feels completely numb inside.

Which may or may not be the depression from losing his brother and his best friend. Dean likes to think it's the painkillers and the whiskey.

He spins the bottle of beer in his hands, scratches at the label.

The past week has been the worst week of all his life. And if he recalls his pretty shitty life correctly, that's saying something.

It took him the first night to even realize in full what had happened. Waking up the morning after, Dean had barely managed to roll out of bed, if Bobby hadn't been so persistent and practically had kicked his ass out of bed. Dean hadn't eaten for days after that, too consumed with grief and worry and self-pity. Not that he didn't notice that Bobby wasn't holding up much better, but at least he tried to be strong for Dean, too.

Which Dean, for the record, has given up on once and for all. He's done. He lost too much.

Dean snorts, trying to get his bandaged nose free from the tears that are threatening to fall yet again. It's pathetic- He's pathetic, and he knows it.

The sound of fluttering wings, so familiar that Dean thinks he imagined it, breaks their companionable silence. Dean's head whips around, eyes searching desperately for his duffel bag. The one with the two angel blades in it.

Cas is dead, and if there's another angel here, that can't be a good sign.

But he's too late. The intruder stands in the shadows between Bobby's desk and the door to the porch. And the duffel... lays right beside the desk on the floor. _Just peachy._

Panic starts to rise in Dean's chest as he jumps to his feet and takes a step back from the strange person, who in return also steps forward, out of the shadows and into the pale afternoon light. It's a woman, probably in her mid-twenties, with long auburn hair and stunning brown eyes. Her mouth is a sinful red, and if it had been any other day when Dean's not currently wallowing in grief, he would've hit on her so hard her head would spin. She's drop-dead gorgeous, wearing a simple black suit and white blouse underneath. A necklace with a round, ocean blue stone rests on her collarbone.

But then again, this has to be an angel, and Dean hasn't seen this vessel ever before. Every alarm in his head goes off at once.

"Hello, Dean," she says.

Her voice is deep for a woman's, but it's the tone that makes Dean perk up. "Who are you?" he asks in lieu of a greeting.

His frown doesn't seem to bother her, Dean notices, because her stoic face shows off a small, yet again all too familiar lopsided smile. "Excuse my appearance, I know it must bother you," she starts, looking straight into Dean's eyes, "but I had to find a new vessel, seeing as Jimmy was blown up by Lucifer."

Dean blinks in disbelief. The last piece of the puzzle in front of him clicks into place, and scales fall from Dean's eyes. "Cas?" he asks in disbelief, his voice dry and raspy.

"Yes," she confirms, that little smile still on her lips. "And this," she adds, running a hand over her suit jacket the way the angel had done with Jimmy's trench coat all those years ago, "is Danneel. She was an actress."

It's weird, way too weird to think of Castiel as _her_, Dean states to himself. Sure, he has always known that angels were genderless, but Cas... Cas is a _he_, always has been, always will be.

Still, Dean has got more important things on his mind right now. Like the fact that Cas isn't as dead as he thought he was, and for a moment, relief and joy flow with surprising intensity through Dean's abused body. He huffs out a short laugh before stepping up to Castiel to hug him tightly.

The girl, his vessel, is by no means short, but she's thin like a model and Dean can easily wrap her up in his arms. After a bit of fumbling around, Cas's hands come up around Dean's waist and settle on his lower back. A few seconds later, when the moment is definitely gone – even though Dean may or may not have held on to that hug a bit longer than necessary, but Cas would never notice – Dean steps back, also smiling now.

"So who brought you back?" Bobby asks from behind Dean.

Dean almost forgot that the older hunter is here as well.

"I think it was God who interfered. And - he didn't just bring me back," Cas explains with a secretive look on his face as he steps towards Dean again.

Before he's able to do so much as blink, Dean feels two fingers – smaller, less calloused ones than he remembers – press against his forehead, and the next second, he's healed. His nose is free, he can breathe without any pain from his ribs, and the cuts on his face are gone. He takes off the bandage from his nose with an amused huff. "Thanks," he says quietly, a bit clipped off, because his bodily wounds were never the ones that hurt most during the past days.

Cas dismisses him with his usual, matter-of-fact look. "You're welcome."

"So you're a full-blown angel again, huh?" Dean adds for good measure, feeling frustration and disappointment build up.

"Well, yes," is Cas' unfazed answer.

"Good for you, then," Dean says bitterly through clenched teeth.

"What do you mean?"

Dean nods to himself absentmindedly. "Don't get me wrong, I'm glad you're back, all new and improved and all that. But you can tell your boss upstairs that I'm coming for him next."

Cas tilts his head to the side, that trademark gesture of his that seems so out of place when there's long, auburn hair falling down on his shoulders with it. "You're angry."

"Yeah, well, no thanks to God for saving my brother, who's rotting in hell right now, you know."

Awkward, tensed silence fills the room.

"I'll see what I can do," Cas nods and flies off in a flutter of wings.

Dean doesn't hear or see Castiel for two more days, until he steps into the kitchen on the morning of the third day, and finds Sam. Sam, walking in from the living room and rubbing the heels of his hands over his eyes like he just woke up.

With his hunter senses kicking in full force, Dean manages to wrestle Sam down to the floor, despite his constant protests, and to pour holy water over him. Then Dean cuts him tentatively with a silver knife.

But it's Sam. It's really, really Sam.

Dean can't believe his luck as he wraps his arms around his brother and squeezes him as tightly as possible.

"Dude, I've never been happier to see you," he gasps breathlessly.

"Right back at you," Sam huffs, the smile obvious in his voice.

When they break apart, it's Cas in his new, female vessel who stands beside them, watching them.

"Who's that?" Sam blurts out, startled by the sudden appearance of the angel.

"Cas," Dean explains with a shrug, that dopey smile still on his face.

"Did you...?" Sam squints at Castiel and tilts his head questioningly.

"I raised you from hell, that's correct."

Which earns Castiel his next hug within three days, and his vessel is so small that it vanishes completely in Sam's arms.

After Sam lets go, Dean's and Cas' eyes meet, and for a moment, they just stare at each other. Dean in disbelief mixed with joy, Castiel amused in a told-you-I-could-do-this way, almost smug. And this time, when Dean says "Thanks," it's not bitter and partly ironic. It's warm and genuine and with a wide, happy grin towards Cas.

In return, Dean gets one of those rare, equally genuine smiles of Cas, and feels a tingle deep in the pit of his stomach, something that he hasn't felt for a long, long time. It doesn't help that the pair of lips that Cas now wears are full and still so enticing.

God help him, but he's attracted to Cas. Like... woah.

"What are you gonna do now, Cas?" Dean asks, mainly to break the tension between them. And, also, to wipe that shit-eating grin from Sam's face, who watches them with a look on his face like he's in on some secret that Dean and Cas don't know.

"Return to heaven."

"Will we see you again down here?" Sam quickly adds.

"I will always come when you call," Castiel confirms. "Don't hesitate to do so."

And with that, the angel flies off.

Sam, yet again, has that wide grin on his face. "Okay, honestly? How long have you been tapping that, Dean?"

"I didn't- Dude, that's _Cas_," Dean answers, flabbergasted.

"Yeah, and he's- she's friggin' hot. Since when do you not-"

Dean interrupts him quickly. "I'm sorry, I was busy mourning my brother's death and apart from the fact that I barely spent ten minutes with our new angel, I wasn't particularly interested in hitting on girls in general," he elaborates.

Sam tips his head. "Sorry, man. I didn't mean it like that."

"I know," Dean sighs. "So, what now? You hungry?"

"Starving, actually."

* * *

**Author's note:**

So. I couldn't get this off my mind, I have to get it out of my system. Girl!Cas and Dean, completely oblivious to the fact that he's smitten with Cas no matter if he's in a male or female vessel. Sorry for that bit of angst at the beginning; that was only for the sake of the plot. The rest of this, I promise, will be mostly fluffy and hot. You read correctly: there's porn coming up (both het and slash). And if anyone is willing to beta this for me, just leave me a message. Also, let me know what you think! Feedback is very much appreciated.


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

Castiel appears beside Dean on the following Thursday, when Dean is out in the garage, fixing a few minor malfunctions of the Impala that had bothered him for a while.

When he notices the heels standing next to him, Dean all but slams his head against the underbody at his attempt to slide out from under the car.

His eyes travel from said sleek, black leather heels up the slim legs to a perfect, slender upper body. And boobs. "Cas," he coughs, quirking a lopsided smile. "I guess some things never change."

"My apologies if I startled you," Cas answers solemnly.

Dean climbs to his feet and gives his angel another short once-over. "I'm just not used to you… like this... yet. Can't you get a tan pea coat or something? Would make you more recognizable."

He turns away to clean his hands on a dirty rug, but when he looks back around, Cas is clad in the pea coat he just suggested. Weirdly enough, the woman before him now seems a bit more like the real Cas, the Cas he knows. And she- he- whatever, looks more than just cute in it. The coat brings out his vessel's curves perfectly, hugs the tiny waist and accentuates the round breasts - and she's just damn hot. Dean can't help but stare.

Cas' eyebrows rise towards his hairline. "Better?"

"Yeah, definitely," Dean rasps, his voice giving him away. "So, what's it like, then? Being a girl?"

_Nice change of subject, Winchester,_ Dean thinks and internally slaps himself across the back of his head. But now it's too late, he might as well take it and roll with it.

"To be honest, there's not a significant difference. I just have yet to get used to this vessel."

"So you've yet got to feel her up?" Dean grins at the innuendo, not beating around the bush about his less innocent intentions. "Just saying, if I woke up as a girl one day, I'd know what I'd do for the next week. Especially with an exemplar like the one you've got there." And with another dirty look, Dean stares right down the girl's cleavage.

"Dean," Cas tilts his head and eyes him accusingly. _Do not objectify me,_ the look says.

Dean scrunches up his nose, but grins right back. No, he's not sorry about saying this. "What? Nothing wrong with that. I mean, look at you. And what's wrong with taking a test drive on the other side? You might learn something."

"You mean, learning something about the body of a woman?"

"Yeah, genius," Dean winks. "I mean, not that I'd complain about _my_ experience, but all that's still second hand."

Castiel stares at him for a few long seconds, apparently contemplating his answer. "Would you be willing to share that information with me if I was interested?"

In his defense, Dean does a double take. While Cas' new vessel might be smoking hot and Dean is tempted to grab her and spread her out on his bed and spend the night with sex, sex and more sex – it's Cas' new vessel. Which means there's _Cas_ in it. As in, his angel, the trench-coat-wearing, blue eyed dude with the messy dark hair and the full, plush lips. The one a couple of people had accused him of having a relationship with that went deeper than their friendship.

Thinking about all this, though, raises questions that Dean doesn't want to contemplate right now.

"I could show you," Dean offers, selfless boy next door that he is. Which doesn't mean that he's able to suppress the grin that rises yet again on his lips.

"You mean... sex," Cas states matter-of-factly.

"'course!" Dean answers nonchalantly, twisting the rug in his hands.

That is the exact moment when Dean realizes he's proposing having sex with an angel of the lord. And not just any angel, but Cas. His _friend_.

He hurries to explain immediately. "I mean, what are friends for, right? We just don't let it get awkward. But I promise you, if I'm getting laid, I'm much easier to work with." Dean throws another bright smile and a wink towards Castiel, who eyes him carefully. "Think of us as friends with benefits."

Cas nods slowly after a few moments of obvious pondering. "Okay, then."

"Meet me tonight? If you're free?"

Cas confirms with another nod. And stands there some more, watching Dean silently as he pops the hood of the Impala to rummage around under it.

"So, how's heaven?" Dean inquires conversationally as he checks the engine.

"Different," the angel replies. "Raphael is in control of heaven now, seeing as Michael and Lucifer are gone."

"Is he still being a dick about kick-starting the apocalypse?"

Castiel's lips are drawn into a lopsided little smirk, which instantly reminds Dean of how that looked on his former vessel. It seems a bit out of place on her now. "I may have kicked some sense into him, and we came to an understanding."

Dean huffs impressed. "So he respects you now?"

Castiel walks closer to lean against the Impala's left front door, right beside Dean. "He does." And there's that quirky little smirk again that looks pretty enticing on her full, red lips.

Dean licks his lips before an image settles in his brain.

Cas, in his current vessel – hot actress in a suit – kicking Raphael's ass, probably with his angel blade in hand, hair tousled and panting. There's a wave of power and confidence coming from him- her- oh, Dean will just refuse to think of Cas in any gender-specific way from now on. As Dean looks at his angel leaning against the car with a smug smile and fully aware of how powerful he is, he feels a surge of heat rolling through his veins and going straight to his dick.

God fucking damnit, but Cas is even hotter like this.

"Screw our date tonight," Dean mumbles.

Cas only raises an eyebrow when Dean slams the hood shut, takes one step towards the angel and grabs her hips without hesitation to lift her up against the car. Cas' legs fall open, and Dean presses his body close to her's, moving to the side so Cas comes to sit down on the hood.

"Dean?" Cas asks confused, tilting the auburn-haired head to the side curiously.

"First lesson, Cas," Dean pants and leans in to kiss her. He doesn't hold back, not in the least, sucking on her full bottom lip and licking into her mouth just like he would with any other girl he'd picked up for a one night stand before. It still feels different. Cas kisses back without much finesse, like he's swept off his feet, but Dean knows it's due to inexperience, too. But for that, Cas makes up with enthusiasm and a passion Dean had never known were in him. As their tongues circle around each other's, licking and tasting, Dean feels a shiver run down his spine.

Why hasn't he ever done this before? Cas was right there, all the time.

Dean shoves the thought away for later.

When Dean opens his eyes, he finds the girl he has kind of blocked out throughout the kissing sitting before him in an utterly disheveled state and eyeing him with unhidden lust in her eyes. Dean's cock gives a more than interested twitch at the sight, but Dean decides that this, right now, that's for Cas, not for him.

He cups her face in both hands, kisses her tenderly, but rolls his hips into the V of her legs to let her know just how much he's affected. Cas groans, a sweet little rumble against Dean's lips, and he smiles in response.

"Let me show you something," he says, his voice rough and barely containing how horny he is.

With that, Dean's hands that are still resting on Cas' hips pull her forward until she's standing right in front of him, and Dean goes down to his knees. He works her decorative belt open, unhooks her suit pants with quick, experienced moves of his fingers, and pulls the zipper down. A look up her body finds Dean being watched with hooded eyes and parted lips by Cas, and another wave of arousal makes him rut unconsciously against the tight fabric of his jeans, just to get a little bit of fraction against his cock. It doesn't help much, except reminding him that this is not about him.

Dean leans up to kiss the small expanse of skin that peaks out from her opened pants, while working his hands around her and down the backside, cupping her perky, perfect ass in his hands. After another look up at Cas, who has closed his eyes now, Dean shoves both suit pants and black, lacy panties down her legs, coaxes her with a light pull to step out of them.

"Sit down on the hood again," Dean rasps breathlessly, throwing pants and underwear to the side.

Cas does as he's told, and Dean gets to his feet as he watches the pea coat getting crumpled between Cas and the cold metal of his baby. He lets his hands run up the slender legs – that actress had obviously been working out – until his fingers meet at the juncture. His tumb traces down her cleft, caressing the clit softly on its way, and Cas moans at the first contact.

And that sweet, pleasant moan is what pushes Dean on, pushes him into his usual, womanizer self, all cocky self-confidence and knowing exactly what he has to do now. Dean meets Cas' eyes and smirks impishly before he leans down, kisses his way up her inner thigh, along her groin and up to her belly button. His tongue circles the tiny hollow, dips into it gently, and elicits another one of those hot moans from Cas' lips. Dean grins, pleased and proud of himself that he can do that to Cas, and continues his journey down the flat belly until his tongue reaches the slit. He pauses for a second to take a short look at Cas, finds his angel flustered and shivering and delicate hands fisting the fabric of the pea coat.

"Dean, please," the voice, female although very, very dark with the usual gravel sound that is just so _Cas,_ pleads.

Not that Dean needs any more encouragement.

He goes down on her, licking across the cleft, opening her up until his tongue runs flatly over her clit. Cas goes rigid at the sensation before deep groan drops from her lips. Grinning to himself even more, Dean continues with short, soft kitten licks across the sensitive nub, which, from the sounds Cas' makes, turn her on beyond anything. When the little moans and huffs get fewer, Dean alternates his moves to strong licks up her cleft with his tongue flat, tracing her entrance and tasting the slick that is pouring out and so uniquely her. He really kind of likes it, that bitter-sweet taste, and presses his lips down between her legs, eating her out good and thoroughly and enjoying every second of it. Dean likes to takes his time, and with Cas it's no different.

"Dean," Cas pleads after a few minutes, needy and unrestrained. "I feel... it feels weird."

Dean breaks the contact to quickly say, "Just relax, let go." And then his mouth is back on her clit, sucking and licking alternately. "It's worth it, I promise," Dean adds, huffing against her tender flesh, relishing the deep groan that follows from above.

"I just need... something," Cas moans breathlessly, "Something more... to make that feeling go away."

Dean chuckles, the vibrations of his mouth against her obviously pleasant for her, but he knows just what to do. He lifts his right hand from where he had it wrapped around her upper thigh and slides in between her legs, buries his middle finger deep inside her wet entrance, pulls out again to thrust back in, and repeat slowly.

It takes exactly three strokes until Dean feels her inner walls quiver, clenching around his finger, and then the waves of her orgasm shake her, make her rut against Dean's mouth. All he can do at this point is moan against her stuttering hips, letting her ride out her climax.

When Cas slumps down against the hood of the Impala, goes limp under Dean's touch, he lets his finger slide out of her and leans up to kiss her deeply. His tongue parts Cas' lips once more, licks inside to let her taste her own juices.

After Dean leans back, Cas' eyes are still dilated as they watch him carefully.

"That's what an orgasm feels like," Dean explains, not without a proud smirk. He just can't help it. After all, he is the reason of Cas' first orgasm. He practically defiled an angel of the lord, and he can't bring himself to not feel smug about it.

"Wow," is all Cas says to that, licking his lips. "And this is what I taste like in this vessel. It's not unpleasant."

Dean's grin freezes on his lips when Cas reaches for his right hand, pulls it upwards and sucks the middle finger clean with a curious look. The one he had buried deep inside her vag not a minute ago. Cas doesn't break the eye contact with Dean, not for a split second through it, but Dean can't stand it for too long. Not with Cas' lips wrapped around his finger, his tongue licking off the last of her slick.

His head drops onto her shoulder as a groan wrecks through his body. "Holy shit, Cas," he barely manages to cough, just as he realizes that he covers her entire body with his, groin rutting into her hip.

It takes more self-control than Dean even thought he still had to pull back and get to his feet. "You should probably get dressed," he suggests, his voice barely a whisper.

Cas sits up, still perched on the edge of the hood as he leans forward, eyes fixed on the bulge in Dean's jeans. Curiously, the angel lifts his hand to cup Dean's engorged cock, massaging it lightly.

"Cas, I swear, if you don't stop now, I can't hold back any more," Dean warns huskily. "And I'd rather not want to do this on the hood of the car. It'll get uncomfortable."

With a smile that Dean can only call mischievous, Cas retreats and within the blink of an eye, has redressed his vessel.

"Thank you, Dean," he says in a conclusive tone, nodding with a small smile.

On instinct, Dean leans down, works his hand into the strands of auburn hair on the back of the angel's head, and pulls Cas into a kiss. "We're not done, you know," he winks cheekily.

"I sincerely hope so," Cas grins, and with a flutter of wings, he's gone.

Which leaves Dean standing in the garage, next to his baby, with a painfully aching hard-on in his pants, and a wide, satisfied grin on his face.

* * *

**Author's Note: **Well, guys. First sex scene. What do you think? Those of you who offered to beta: Do you still want to do so?


End file.
